After the Second Fall

Up in the seats, Lilith's hand finally started to relax as the remaining teams took their starting positions again. She sat back in her seat, which caused her hand to slide up his leg; John certainly noticed, but said nothing. After a few heartbeats, Lilith said, "That was much more violent in person."

John nodded, "Yeah, that was a bad one. Pip did well, though. If he hadn't handicapped VTE so badly -- that's the gray team -- there's a good chance the other teams would have joined up to eliminate their team."

"Why is that?"

"Pip," said John simply. "Doesn't he look like the biggest threat down there?"

Lilith nodded, understanding the point. "So the blue teams will cooperate again now?"

"If they get a chance. They have to get the ball first; otherwise, they're not really allowed to attack. I doubt they've got anybody that will get there before Pip, but we'll see. Look: the head referee is ready to start again." As before, Lilith's hand gripped tightly.

Pip was once again tearing across the pitch as soon as the whistle blew, quickly covering ground. However, the light blue team had brought in a tall, wiry man as a substitute, who was also fast approaching the ball with impressive speed. As the brief race's conclusion drew near, Pip saw that he would win, but just barely. In a surprise move, the other man dove, fully extended, just as Pip was reaching down for the ball. The smaller man's fist reached their shared target first and punched it forward just before Pip's hand made contact; unfortunately for the man, his maneuver put his head in line with Pip's right shin. Pip felt the contact, but suffered no injury as the man's neck gave way easily; he didn't spare a glance as he checked his momentum, trying to see where the ball had gone.

The desperate tactic was clearly planned, as the two blue teams had already joined together into another huge wedge, this time with fourteen attackers. Back at their own net, the scarlet side, Second Quarter West, had formed their own block with all eleven remaining members staying behind as Pip made his run. Slowing time so he could fully assess the situation, Pip saw that it might just be possible to overtake the wedge, if he was able to get up to full speed fast enough. Exerting the Effect to its fullest, he began his run, using all of the force he could muster, focusing muscle group by muscle group as he had been practicing with Max. In less than three heartbeats of real time, Pip was already at his top speed. When he judged the distance to be correct, he performed his own dive toward the rear of the wedge.

Pip's momentum drove him into the ball carrier at the back, plowing the man forward into his teammates, who also toppled forward as their legs were caught from behind. The wedge shuttered and fell apart just as the front of the scarlet line drove forward to absorb the impact. The man at the point of the wedge was least fortunate as he stumbled directly into the shoulder of a large scarlet clad man, his head snapping back as his momentum was forcibly checked. As for the game, Pip wrestled the ball from the previous carrier and started back across the pitch toward the light blue net.

Isolated from his team, Pip knew that it wasn't a sure thing that he would score; the remaining five defenders were big, experienced players, conditioned to work as a team. They were already forming up to try to break Pip's headlong rush, tightly spaced with three in front and two in back. As he approached at a full sprint, Pip dropped his head, lowered his shoulder, and planted his right foot less than a body length from the defenders, pivoting hard to his left. The group toppled forward, expecting force and receiving none. With the goal now undefended, Pip trotted into the net and set the ball down at the back before jogging back toward his team, where he was welcomed with cheers and back slaps.

Once again, stretchers raced forward, this time to collect two dead men, one of which had come from each team in blue; as an odd counterpoint, no other players were injured enough to leave the arena with the defeated light blue players.

Lilith looked up to see John sitting with his arms folded, a smug smile on his face. "Was he that good?" she asked playfully.

"Definitely yes," John replied, playing the proud father. "There isn't a man on the planet that could have done what he just did." Forgetting himself, John reached around and pulled Lilith close. When her warm body gently impacted his own, he froze, realizing what he had just done. Nothing happened for five heartbeats, then she leaned into him, resting her head against his side. The tension in his shoulders released and he looked down at her, to find that she was smiling up at him. They held eye contact for a moment, and then she looked back down to the pitch where the two remaining teams were getting ready and squeezed his leg again. The scarlet players were jubilant, bouncing and chatting; conversely, the dark blue team was huddled tightly, clearly discussing their strategy.

The head referee walked toward the center of the arena and the two teams took their starting positions -- Pip was once again positioned at the front, ready to race for the ball. The whistle sounded and he sprinted for the third time. Reaching the ball first easily, he turned to see that the entire blue squad had charged toward the center. Seeing their net undefended, Pip turned and heaved the ball in its direction. The entire arena fell silent as the spectators watched it arc beautifully through the air, then bounce, bounce again, and enter the net. Pip raised his arms in victory and turned toward his team, who didn't look nearly as happy, pointing just behind him. Pip turned just in time to see two blue players lower their shoulders and crash into him.

Even as he slowed time, there was nothing Pip could do to avoid being tackled roughly and driven to the ground. As his legs left the arena sand, the crowd gasped collectively, amazed at the site; while Pip berated himself for not paying attention to his opponents, he worked urgently to rotate his hips so that instead of landing on his back he hit on his right hip and shoulder. As a result, he didn't lose the air in his lungs and was able to quickly roll on top of the two attackers. His superior position was short-lived, however, as the rest of the blue team crashed into him from behind.

Caught in the bottom of the melee, Pip was on the receiving end of repeated blows; fortunately, the limited space in the pile prevented most of them from being significant. Even as he began to make progress toward breaking free, a tremendous strike landed cleanly on his right side, maybe even cracking a rib. Despite the pain, Pip's mind was still working -- the only explanations that made sense were either a leaping knee or elbow strike -- which seemed unlikely -- or that they had brought weapons into the arena. The latter theory was confirmed a heartbeat later when Pip felt a blade slice across the back of his right arm, agonizing as it moved in slow motion.

Prior to the fight, Lilith had made it very clear that Pip was not to intentionally harm opposing players, as it would make him out to be a bully; rather, the point was to demonstrate how superior he was to some of the best men in Rieckenburg. Now, however, these men had apparently decided to kill him, which put them squarely within his normal arena.

In the stands, John had started to rise at the first tackle, only to be pulled back down by Lilith. He could easily have disengaged, but it was clear that she had something in mind. "Wait," she said. John eased back down, but remained tense, ready to race down into the arena if it looked like Pip was in over his head.

Across the pitch, Pip's scarlet teammates stood, watching the fight play out, making no move to intervene. The referees, knowing this was beyond them, fled.

In the pile, Pip began to use his fists, elbows, knees, feet, and even head, to deliver blow after blow to whoever he could reach. Once again focusing on individual muscle groups, he was able to deliver powerful strikes without long wind ups. From the outside it didn't look like much was happening, until a man on the top of the pile rolled off, screaming as blood streamed from his nose and mouth. Then a second man spun off of the pile, collapsing in the dirt, followed by another who dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.

With the weight of the pile reduced, Pip rolled, heaving the remaining men off his back while he regained his feet, panting with exertion. Blood flowed from his nose and ran from multiple slices on his arm and side. The crowd gasped as Pip roared, then cowered as he picked up the nearest man and crushed his face with a single punch. Still the blue men kept coming, trying to take him down again. Pip kicked and a man collapsed, his ribs crushed. Pip punched and a different man's chest caved in. There were now seven men standing, facing their giant opponent, as the door behind their net opened and six more men dressed in dark blue charged into the arena, armed with much more obvious weapons.

Lilith once again restrained John with the hand on his thigh, saying only a single word: "Watch." To convince him, she moved her hand to the front of his pants, squeezing. John looked down at her with wide eyes, uncomprehending; in response she just flicked her head toward the arena. John, utterly flabbergasted, did as she indicated.

Down on the pitch, Pip saw the new arrivals and looked around for his own weapon. Seeing only a small black blade and what appeared to be a set of welded metal rings, Pip opted for the most outlandish measure he could devise in short notice. Bending down, he grabbed the legs of the man whose face he had smashed, and hefted him into the air, over his shoulder. This was a large man, definitely heavier than the population mean, so when Pip brought the body down on top of a surprised opponent in blue, there was a sickening crunch audible even to the crowd. Pip began to swing his massive new club at the men in blue closest to him, causing them to dive out of the way, or run in different directions. When two collided, he ended the life of one with a foot to the face while the other crawled away.

Up in the stands, many of the audience members were covering their faces or turning away, refusing to look at such an awful spectacle, and then surreptitiously looking anyway. As the Q2 team was re-enforced, a sense of anticipation built. Down in the arena, Pip dropped the body he had been holding, and called out to the men in blue, although it was not loud enough for the spectators to hear. An exchange followed, and suspense built further. Finally, a man with two long knives stepped forward and the crowd quieted.

John smiled, seeing what Pip had done; Lilith's hand moved more aggressively at his groin.

The man in blue spun his knives expertly, tracing intricate patterns while Pip waited calmly in a generic fighting stance. The man came forward, knives now in a ready position with one forward and the other back; still Pip waited, motionless. The man made a thrust, which Pip knocked away easily, then another, and another. Pip's longer reach made it impossible for him to land any stabs, so the man started slicing cuts. These were harder for Pip, and he had to dodge rapidly, almost getting cut several times as the man became more aggressive. A particularly crafty slice drew a line of red across Pip's side and he took three long strides backward quickly, trying to put distance between them. The smaller man grinned and narrowed his eyes, sensing fear.

Seeing that he could not forever escape the knives, Pip took a stride forward and threw a huge hammer fist with his right hand. Such a blow would easily have crushed the man's skull, but this particular man was too fast: spreading his legs into a firm stance while while raising his knives to catch the huge arm now falling: he was prepared for the strike.

In slow time, Pip easily stopped his arm's momentum and instead kicked with his right leg, catching the man cleanly in the genitals while shattering his pelvis from below. The audience saw the man drop, screaming, while holding himself. The awful, bone chilling cries only stopped when he started vomiting, his voice choked off by bile and blood.

Pip was once again talking, but this time there was no dialogue as the men dressed in blue decided what to do. When one of them turned and started back toward the door through which he had entered, the pressure that had been building began leaking out of the entire stadium like a deflating balloon. The remaining men in blue started to help, or carry, their injured teammates back the same way; five were left to lie.

Bending and picking up one of the long knives, Pip started toward his own team, clearly unhappy, and the pressure in the stadium started to build again; even the men in dark blue paused to see what transpired. When he was several paces away, Pip threw the knife down so that it stuck into the sand all the way to the bolster. Pip began yelling at them, so loud that John could hear parts of words. Eventually they resolved into, "Pick it up!", which was repeated several times. When none of them moved, Pip grabbed the man closest to him and dragged him by his arm ten paces toward the center of the pitch, tossing him down. He then moved off an additional five paces and turned, facing the man, who had not risen to his feet.

Pip shouted something, and the man curled up into a ball. Another shout, probably a threat, and the man slowly rose up, with his hands held forward. Pip said one more thing, quieter this time, and the man's arms dropped. Drawing himself up to his full height, the man in scarlet pushed his shoulders back, and took a deep breath, raising his arms as if he was preparing for a fight.

John gripped the front of his seat tightly, his whole body tense. "Do it," Lilith whispered toward Pip.

Pip walked purposefully toward the man and pulled back his fist. In response, the man held up his hands and turned his head away, losing courage at the last moment; it didn't stop Pip's fist, which connected squarely with the smaller man's temple.

John's entire body released its tension at once, causing him to cry out. Lilith smiled, thoroughly satisfied with how events had played out, while wiping her hand on John's thigh and then standing. "What the hell was that about?" John finally managed to get out.

"Just the first act in building up Pip's reputation, John. Now, every single person in Rieckenburg, every man, woman, and child, will know about Pip, and they'll all be terrified of him."

"And that's a good thing?" he asked, surprised.

"More than that: it's necessary for what I have planned."

John realized he was in over his head, and didn't even know how to respond. "And what about this up here?"

Lilith smiled aggressively and looked deep into his eyes. "Same thing: that was our first act. Act two starts tomorrow."

Chapter 12

Lying in his bed, John reflected on the day that had been, his mind skipping back and forth between topics. While he was surprised at the turn of events during the match and subsequent brawl, it was Lilith's behavior that truly baffled him. Not only was her physical attention unexpected, it was also quite unnerving. John couldn't help feeling used, or at least manipulated, given that she had managed to control him. What's more, her comments afterward left him feeling like he was at least one step behind in whatever larger game was being played, and probably more.

Surely Lilith was using John to manipulate Pip, and more than anything else, that irked him. As his anger started to build, sleep snuck up on him, so that when he woke to the sound of bells and found morning, he was surprised and still tired. John quickly righted himself and began making himself presentable to meet up with Pip before the prearranged meeting with Lilith at the eighth bell.

Neither John nor Pip were talkative, passing the walk in silence. This was typical for Pip, but John was naturally extroverted, and as a general rule didn't like silences, preferring to fill them up, even if it meant one-sided conversations. As they approached Lilith's office door, John stopped abruptly, glaring at Pip. "Aren't you even a little mad about what happened yesterday?"

Pip shook his head casually. "Not really. I didn't think it would be that extreme, but I assumed that there would be some sort of retaliation for me playing. It just makes sense."

John was caught off-guard, his brow furrowing. "Okay, why?"

"Two reasons come immediately to mind," replied Pip. "The first is that Director Collins wouldn't have put me in a position where I just played a passive role, because she wants to build me up as some sort of modern super hero.

"The second is that I stepped into the sandbox of the toughest guys on the block, figuratively speaking, and it makes sense they didn't like being showed up. I thought they would try to cheat somehow, or outmaneuver me, not throw the match for some petty payback. As it stands, my guess is that Director Collins is satisfied with the result, at least that's how it came across when she talked with me briefly last night."

"She came to see you? When?" barked John, not liking that he was not in the information loop.

"When I was stepping into the shower, just after the match ended. She didn't stay long, just enough to congratulate me on the performance, and to tell me that I'd met her expectations."

John considered what Pip said, and realized it was when he was cleaning himself up in the restroom. All in all, he felt less angry about the previous day's events, but it definitely bothered him that he hadn't anticipated what happened. Strategy was one of his strengths, after all.

As John was still considering this new information, the door opened and Lilith came out. She was dressed in dark gray, simultaneously appearing professional, intimidating, and alluring, at least to John. After a quick greeting, she gestured for Pip to enter, and then closed the door behind him, remaining in the hall with John. "Good morning, John," she started. "I can tell you're upset. I'm sorry for that: it wasn't my intention."

John gave her his best questioning glare, which hadn't previously been in his repertoire, so he wasn't sure of it's effectiveness until she continued. "Turns out the door isn't actually soundproof. I heard you talking." John acknowledged this with a curt nod. "But I don't think that's what is really bothering you. Is it about what happened between us in the stands?"

John reloaded his glare, which had momentarily slipped, increasing it to maximum intensity. "I don't like being manipulated, Director Collins," he angrily stage whispered. "And I especially don't like it when somebody tries to get to Pip through me."

Although John was quite intimidating when bearing down on her from above, Lilith didn't turn away, as if she had been expecting to be rebuffed. "John, you're simultaneously right and wrong," she replied evenly. "Will you hear me out?"

Having geared himself up for a row, John had to vent some of the built up tension, so he stood up to his full height, turned around, and took a deep breath to calm himself. When he turned back around, he looked more in control, and nodded for Lilith to continue.

"First, where you're wrong: as you heard Pip tell you, he's not being manipulated." She forestalled John interjecting by holding up her small hand. "Listen first, John, please. As you insisted, he's a full partner in what I'm doing. I didn't tell him that I expected trouble at the fight, because I didn't know what would happen, but he and I did talk about how he might respond in certain situations beforehand. What's more, he's every bit as intelligent as you've told me, multiple times, as he already demonstrated again here in the hallway this morning. He was probably better prepared for the kind of violence last night than I was. Besides, from a big picture perspective, trying to manipulate him simply isn't worth the risk: it's too likely to bite me in the ass. Do you understand?"